An UnCivil War
by shogei
Summary: The Wardens are not the only Fereldens in action during the Blight.  There is a civil war, an alienage riot, and Fergus is missing with the Chasind.  This explores some of the events the Wardens only hear of.
1. Starting a War

_This story covers some of the events happening in the background of Bioware's Dragon Age:Origins. In the game you hear hints of a civil war in the bannorn and of riots in the Alienage. Fergus disappears for most of the story then shows up saying he was with the Chasind. In Awakenings we hear that Howe's wife and son were killed in the war but we don't hear how. This is my attempt to answer some of those questions. There will be some main play-through plotline weaving in an out as well._

Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir sat uncomfortably, frowning at fools. Duncan had somehow convinced Cailan to call a council of all the nobles currently in Denerim to discuss the supposed Darkspawn threat he had "discovered" in the south. Arl Rendon Howe, he knew, would not fall for it. Arl Urien Kendall distrusted the Wardens and would likely be on the right side also. Teyrn Bryce Cousland was almost as enamored of the Grey Wardens as Cailan so would definitely fall on the other side. Bann Brunnoch Lorth was hard to judge but would likely listen to the facts and make the right decision. None of it really mattered if Cailan was swayed as he could order them all into action. Duncan was just finishing offering his "proof" of a Darkspawn problem to a mesmerized king, which didn't leave Loghain hopeful.

"A Blight? You cannot be serious," Arl Urien scoffed.

"I am deadly serious," said Duncan. "The signs are all there. The Darkspawn are withdrawing from Orzammar and appearing in the Kocari Wilds in significant numbers."

"That sounds like they are moving, not surging. Perhaps they have tired of the dwarven harassment and are seeking softer targets," Loghain commented. "If they have decided to attack the Chasind then I say let them, it might take the pressure off the southern Banns for a while."

"You honestly believe the Chasind are a greater threat than the Darkspawn?" Duncan asked incredulously.

"I believe the Chasind are a real, known threat and the Darkspawn are scattered reminders of a distant time, much like the Wardens themselves," Loghain sneered.

"That's enough, Loghain," ordered King Cailan, "Duncan is here at my invitation and you will treat him with respect."

"Pardon, Your Majesty, but it seems beyond coincidence that the Wardens would be claiming a Blight just when their numbers have been dwindling precipitously," Loghain accused.

"It seems beyond hypocrisy to mention our dwindling numbers when it is your own policies that have caused the decrease in Ferelden," Duncan countered angrily.

"What is this?" asked Cailan, "I am aware of no policies to disadvantage the Wardens."

"That's because there are none," Loghain said, contemptuously.

"I apologize, Your Majesty. I am embarrassed that I have allowed myself to be distracted from my message. The Blight is of much greater importance than any matters of tax policy," Duncan bowed humbly.

"Alleged Blight. We still have no proof," said Loghain.

"And we start again," complained Cailan. "Tell me, Duncan, what would this be if not a Blight?"

Duncan answered honestly, "It is possible it is merely a large incursion. If so, my advice is still to meet them in force before they reach the southern bannorn. Their numbers are significant and the Banns of the south will not be able to hold them on their own."

"And if it's a true Blight?" asked Cailan.

"Then the forces of Ferelden alone will not be enough. We should seek aid from throughout the rest of Thedas."

"And whose foreign soldiers would you prefer Ferelden kneel to?" snarled Loghain, "The chevaliers of Orlais or the footmen from Weisshaupt's shadow vassals in the Anderfels? Or perhaps you would allow them both in to divide the kingdom between them."

"Agreed," said Brunnoch, "We cannot accept outside forces on Ferelden soil."

"Under a Blight all of Thedas is in danger. The Darkspawn do not honor borders," Duncan warned.

"Alleged Blight," Loghain repeated.

"There is a middle ground," suggested Bryce. "We could notify the other kingdoms and ask them to prepare, but let them know that we are still trying to determine the truth of the issue. They can let us know what aid they can give and when, but we would not invite them within our borders unless it becomes clear that it is a true Blight."

"Bravo, Bryce! Always the moderator," crowed Cailan. "That sounds like an excellent idea."

"I cannot believe you would actually consider inviting Orlesian soldiers into Ferelden under any circumstances, Bryce," Howe commented, shaking his head.

"Only as a last resort, if Ferelden herself were threatened," defended Bryce.

"And what about the threat from Orlais?" challenged Howe.

"Orlais under the Empress is not the same as under her father," soothed Bryce. "Even so, the idea does not thrill me. I wouldn't wish it unless we have to."

"Which we don't," said Loghain, firmly. "For this is not a Blight. The very idea is absurd."

"We'll see," said King Cailan. "We'll do as Bryce suggests and draft letters to the leaders of Thedas and tell them of the situation. Bryce, you are the diplomat here, can you draft the letters and present them to me for approval? You can then select messengers to deliver the letters and I will give you whatever resources you need. I would like to have them sent by the end of the week."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Bryce nodded.

"Loghain, I want you to prepare a defensive line at Ostagar. Even if it's not a Blight, we owe it to the kingdom to limit the Darkspawn to the Wilds. Even you cannot deny the reports that the Darkspawn numbers are increasing. Inform the nobility that I am imposing a military levy and expect all of them to send men to help."

"Your Majesty, I must..."

"You must obey my orders. I know you are doubtful but I am not and I will not lose the south due to lack of action."

Loghain bowed his head, though his teeth were clenched, "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Urien, I will need food, tents, wagons and other goods for the march to Ostagar. I wish to move soon so will be leaning heavily on you to supply them. Can you do it?"

"I can, Your Majesty, but will need to buy wagons from the merchants which could be expensive."

"The safety of the kingdom serves them as well as everyone else. You might need to commandeer some items and compensate them later, make sure to keep an inventory. I will draft a letter giving you the authority."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Urien said, uneasily.

"Brunnoch, I know it is still a couple of months until harvest, but I would like you to sound out the Banns and find out what support they can offer. If this becomes an extended war we will need to pull larger than our normal royal share of both grain and meat."

Brunnoch nodded, "As you wish, Your Majesty."

"Duncan, my task for you is twofold. First, I would like you to notify the other Grey Wardens in Thedas and invite their aid, with my blessing."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I have already informed them of my suspicions, I am sure they will be glad to hear of your invitation. What is the second task?"

"I have a small force of mages assigned to my command at all times, but it is not enough for a full war. I would like you to go to the mage's tower and request what aid you can. I understand you have a relationship with First Enchanter Irving?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. A wise idea."

"Mages and foreigners?" Brunnoch grimaced, "These are uncommon measures."

"This is an uncommon foe," Duncan noted. "Teyrn Cousland, if you are sending messages to all the kingdoms already, may I use your men to carry my own letters?"

"Absolutely, Warden. I will need to return to Highever to start the levy that the king has asked for and was going to have the replies sent there. I can then forward the messages to wherever is appropriate. Is that acceptable, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, of course. No need to duplicate efforts. I will be heading to Ostagar myself once my personal forces are ready, so receiving the messages at Highever makes perfect sense. Thank you."

"I could remain in Denerim to receive the messages and bring them straight to Your Majesty," suggested Howe.

"No, no need. Besides, you'll have levies of your own to raise," Cailan smiled, "Loghain, I will be writing to my Uncle Eamon personally so no need for you to contact him."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Loghain replied with a growl.

"Thank you all. With luck we will send these monsters scurrying back to their caves before the summer is out. And, if it is a Blight, then history will know us as men who were not afraid to stand and face the darkness. Maker watch over us."

"Maker watch over us," the others replied in chorus, rising and making their way out of the room.

"Duncan, please stay a few moments, Urien and Loghain too. I would like to discuss this tax issue you mentioned," requested Cailan.

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Duncan, ignoring Loghain's glare.

Once the others filed out and the door was closed, Cailan turned to Duncan, "Tell me what policies are causing you problems."

"There are tariffs on all supplies coming to the Wardens and unexplained damage to shipments passing through port, inspections of our compound with taxes levied on held property and limits on how many Wardens may travel together in the town," Duncan counted off the complaints on his hand.

Loghain waved his hand, "The tariffs are not exclusive to the Wardens and we have no control over how a bunch of clumsy deck hands deal with your shipments. As for the taxes, those are applied to all foreign steel in the kingdom."

"But the embassies are granted an exception to the taxes, an exception which is not extended to the Wardens. Few other organizations import goods so are not subject to tariffs," argued Duncan. "And none of that addresses the limits on Warden movements."

"We cannot very well let a foreign service move in numbers through our city," said Urien.

"We are not a foreign service, the majority of my Wardens are from here. We are bound to no nation but do protect Ferelden."

"Yet you rely on Weisshaupt for your armor, uniforms and weaponry. You could avoid the tariffs entirely by using local craftsmen," Loghain chided.

"Weisshaupt prefers a consistent presentation," Duncan grumbled. He had often complained about that choice - it was due more to Weisshaupt's desire to patronize their own mines in the Anderfels than on any issues of how the Warden's looked. Loghain had him on that point.

"Weisshaupt's preferences are not under my control," Loghain answered. "That is your own choice."

"None of these were issues under Maric," Duncan noted.

"Hear this, King Cailan, he accuses Your Majesty of crippling his order when he has been given extraordinary consideration," Urien gave a mock gasp.

Cailan sighed, "I have heard nothing of the kind, Arl Urien. What I have heard is a man saying his order is not supported as well under my rule as it was under my father. For that I apologize, Commander. I will speak to the queen to see how we can get this remedied. Thank you, you are all dismissed."

Howe was waiting for him when Loghain left Cailan's office, which wasn't a real surprise. They nodded to each other and proceeded to Loghain's apartments silently until they were safely behind closed doors.

"Do you think this is a ploy?" asked Howe, bluntly. "Is the Empress using the Wardens to be able to march into Ferelden?"

"I wouldn't put anything beyond the Orlesians, or their Wardens," Loghain cursed "Damn Duncan, did he find out what we were planning?"

"I don't see how, we barely have a plan as it is. I do have news by the way. The rumors that Redcliffe is seeking an apostate are confirmed by my agent. It appears the Arlessa believes her son may be a mage and wishes him tested by someone other than the Chantry."

"Is Eamon party to this?" asked Loghain, surprised.

"I don't believe so but that hardly matters, does it? All we need is to make sure they get the apostate they are looking for and then point him out. Eamon will be disgraced and his influence diminished. We may even be able to get him banned from Denerim as a threat to the king."

"I doubt that, not if Cailan is on his side. The king does not have the same suspicion of mages as you and I. Or most reasonable people," Loghain muttered.

"Still, placing an apostate in his court can only be good for us."

"You mean a blood mage, don't you? That is a dangerous idea."

"Did I say any such thing? No, he doesn't have to be a blood mage for people to suspect he is. Being an apostate is sufficient to condemn him and the people he has influence over," Howe smiled.

"And where would I find an apostate? They don't stand on street corners holding signs."

"The templars often bring captured apostates to the Chantry before taking them on to wherever they end up. You can ask Urien to, say, intercept one."

"I can, can I?"

"He won't do such a thing on my orders, alas. He doesn't trust me."

"I can't imagine why not," said Loghain, dryly.

"Please, you know my motivations. I am on your side."

"I suspect your motivations, I know nothing. Nevermind, I'll talk to Urien. It's distasteful, but you're right, this is the best chance to reduce Eamon's influence on Cailan that we have found. Have you figured out how to pry Bryce away from him?"

"I have an inkling of a plan, but nothing firm enough to share yet. I actually think this war effort may help things along. After all, it is Bryce that will be reaching out to the foreign governments of Thedas. It is his reputation at stake if any of those arrangements benefit him inordinately."

"That is why you offered to receive the replies? You planned to make some alterations?" Loghain chuckled, "Subtle."

"No, but that is an excellent idea. I merely felt it would be helpful to get a peek at the king's correspondence. He is asking for aid and they may request something in return. We don't want to be surprised by his arrangements like we were with Anora."

"No, we don't," Loghain grimaced, remembering the letter he'd seen on Cailan's desk nearly a year ago. Cailan had rejected Eamon's suggestion to put Anora aside, but Eamon would keep pushing. If only Anora would get herself pregnant then there would be no question, but she refused to discuss the subject with her father and Loghain was left unsure where the problem truly lie. He suspected it was Cailan, given the fool's unproductive dalliances, but could not prove anything without Anora's cooperation. Damn it, but she loved the boy. "Can you tell Urien I'd like to see him? He will trust you on that, I hope."

"I should be able to convince him, yes," replied Howe, without a trace of sarcasm. Howe knew what he was and wasn't ashamed, which made him extremely dangerous in Loghain's opinion. Loghain would like to say he was glad to have the man on his side, instead it made him slightly queasy.

"Is there anything else?" asked Loghain.

"Vanesse wanted me to ask you to dinner. I said you would likely be too busy after the council, but she insisted I try."

"Your Arlessa is a gracious woman. Tell her that I find the offer inviting, but am unable. Anora has already made plans for me."

"I will pass on your regrets. Good evening, Loghain." Howe bowed then left.

Loghain moved to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle. He wasn't sure he could eat dinner at all and hoped a drink could settle him.

Bryce and Eamon had been friends of his once, or at least allies - why they would now be cozying up to the Orlesians he could not imagine. The Empress had to be offering them something but Loghain had yet to find any proof. Without it Cailan was unwilling to listen to him, which was beyond frustrating. The king had become ever more rebellious as the years went on. He had once listened to Loghain on everything, now he was just as likely to rely on Bryce, Eamon, or even that snake Duncan. The kingdom was slipping away and, before long, would fall right into Empress Celene's lap unless he could stop it. If he could just get rid of those destructive influences he was sure he could make Cailan see the danger hiding in Orlais.

There was a knock at the door and he called, "Come in." Arl Urien walked in and bowed. "You arrived quickly. I thank you for that," said Loghain.

"I had stopped to talk to Brunnoch so had not yet left the palace." Urien explained.

"What does Brunnoch think of this whole mess?"

"He is uncomfortable with the idea of foreigners in Ferelden, but he is not as doubtful of Duncan's story as we are. I'm surprised you did not ask to speak with him as well."

"I will at some point, but this is about something else. I have a favor to ask you and you must never speak of it to anyone. For your own sake I cannot explain why I need it and, even if you refuse, I would need you to keep it secret. I can tell you it's for the good of Ferelden." Always for the good of Ferelden, for he truly had nothing else. Even Anora didn't seem to need him anymore.

"I...see," said Urien. "I owe you everything, Loghain. If not for you I would never have regained my father's lands. You have my word."

Loghain took a drink, then took a breath, "I need you to betray the Chantry."

* * *

><p>Brunnoch Lorth pushed open the door to the dining room to find Cauthrien waiting for him. She was dressed for dinner in a pretty pink gown but had an ornamental dagger laid on a napkin in front of her and was carefully cleaning the gem encrusted handle. She looked up and smiled at him, "Good evening, Father. How was your meeting?"<p>

"Frightening. There is talk of a Blight," he said bluntly, moving to his seat. The butler peaked in the door and nodded to him, then ducked back out.

"A Blight?"

"An organized incursion of Darkspawn led by an archdemon."

"I know what a Blight is, Father. I was questioning whether it is really happening."

"Yes, of course. Sorry cupcake, I'm just distracted." He looked at what she was working on, "Is that the dagger you found in the market?"

"Yes. It's clear the gems have been popped and replaced by paste, but the handiwork itself is exquisite. It might be worth something once I get it cleaned up, even without the gems." She wrapped the napkin around it and put it aside. "You are not going to distract me, however. What makes them think there is a Blight? I thought those were no more."

"That Warden, Duncan. He says the Blights are not over and that the Darkspawn are resurging. He says the recent raids in the south are part of a larger force hidden in the Kocari Wilds."

"Do you think he's right?"

"I hope not, but you know what I always say."

"Put hope in one hand and spit in the other and see which one gets full faster. Yes, I know. Do you think he's right?" she repeated.

"Yes," he sighed. "Duncan has never struck me as a fool or an agent, despite what Loghain says. If he believes this is a Blight, then it is likely a Blight, Maker help us. Either way the king believes him and is sending an army down there to hold them back."

"To Ostagar?"

"Good girl. Yes, to Ostagar. We have a map of that around here somewhere, don't we? It might be good for you to study it. Chances are you'll be heading down there with Teyrn Loghain when he marches."

"You're not, Father?"

"I might eventually. King Cailan has asked me to secure food for the armies. I'll likely be travelling the bannorn inspecting crops."

"A curse it is to be a good logistician," she teased, "You never get to see battle."

"I do not miss it, believe me. I fear you'll know what I mean soon enough. And, before I forget, let me tell you how proud I am of you. Loghain does not choose his captains to earn political favor. That you've achieved that rank in his service speaks well of you. I just wish it was a peaceful tenure."

"Thank you, Father. That. .. that means a great deal to me." She met his sad eyes, "Are you really so frightened?"

"Ah, but here comes the soup. Lets put the dark things off for another time. It may be a while before we have a chance at idle chatter again."

"Yes Father," she said, but her heart did not feel lightened. Her father had only been frightened once in his life, when her mother was ill with the disease that would eventually kill her. That he was worried now meant there was truly something to fear. She had a feeling he was right, that their time together would be coming to an end and it may be a long time before Ferelden saw peace again. She knew what a Blight was, and that she may very well not see the other side in her lifetime. She reached out and squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. "I'm ready Papa. You've made me so."

"No, my dear, I haven't. There is no way to do so. Not for battle, not for blood, not for what men do to one another when lives and power are at stake. And damn sure not for Darkspawn."


	2. Guilty of No Crime

_I am still looking for Beta readers and would love if someone could volunteer. If not, any helpful hints or notices of glaring errors are appreciated._

"Duncan, you have to save her."

Duncan looked at the brown-haired mage before him, her hands clasped in front of her and her dark eyes pleading. He drew a hand across his eyes and sighed, "Save her from what? She has a future here."

"She's a slave here, Duncan. She doesn't have the temperament to just sit in here forever."

"But you think she has the temperament to be a Grey Warden? Impatience is not one of the virtues I look for, Vivian."

Vivian frowned, "Impatience! You don't know what you're talking about. Neria has been trapped here for fifteen years waiting for the day she became a full mage only to discover it came with a nicer bed, a later curfew, and no real freedom. She's not like most of these mages, she doesn't want to spend her life studying and teaching. She wants to explore the world and do things. She's restless." Vivian stepped closer and lay her hand on Duncan's arm, "She has her father to thank for that quality."

Duncan looked down at Vivian and shook his head. He found it hard to believe there were many mages in the tower who were satisfied just staying there, but Vivian didn't want to hear that and if Vivian didn't want to hear then she wouldn't. "We had an afternoon, Vivian, more like an hour really. I feel for the girl but I cannot risk my mission for the king. If I anger Greagoir by recruiting her, I may not get the mages Cailan's asked for."

"She needs this, Duncan," Vivian pleaded.

"She doesn't need this right now," he said, removing her hand. "She'll just have to wait a little longer."

"But you'll consider it?" she asked hopefully.

"I make no promises, but I will consider it."

"You won't regret it. Her Harrowing was one of the quickest we've seen. She's smart and talented and ..."

"Restless. She'll need to get over that."

"She's also angry, Duncan," Vivian said quietly. "She feels betrayed that she is still so limited."

"Surely she must have known what was ahead of her," Duncan noted. "It's not like she hasn't had mages to talk to."

"She was certain they had scheduled her Harrowing now because of the war at Ostagar."

"And where would she have gotten that idea?" Duncan chided. Ever since Vivian had recognized her own face and coloring in the girl apprentice she had filled Neria's head with nonsense. The girl should have been sent to the Circle in Orlais or Kirkwall but the distrust between the Circles was still too strong at the time she was first brought to the tower. Irving had done his best to keep the two apart, but Vivian was nothing if not stubborn and, truth be told, she had little else to focus on other than her daughter.

"It only made sense," Vivian defended. "She is so smart and strong and brave. She would have done so well there. She was crushed when they told her she wasn't going."

"Disappointment is a part of life, Neria will have to learn that."

"Disappointment is all she's ever known," Vivian whined. "I just didn't think you'd disappoint her too."

Duncan looked up in alarm, "Surely you didn't tell her I'd be taking her with me!"

"No, of course not. She knows nothing about you. I told Neria her father is an escaped apostate, which was probably not the best idea. I'm afraid if you don't take her that she's going to try and escape herself. I'd hate to see her hunted down by templars, she wouldn't let them take her quietly."

"You are not helping her case," Duncan observed.

"Why not? She needs purpose, Duncan, and she doesn't have it here. Here she exists but she doesn't have direction. No goal here will suit her. A Grey Warden though? She'd throw her heart and soul into it. She's a driven, talented, focused, capable mage who just needs a chance to show what she can do. Even if she weren't our daughter I'd be recommending her to you, she's that good. Ask Irving if you don't believe me."

"I do believe you, I'm just not sure what I can do about it right now."

Vivian threw up her hands, "I know, I know. The King, the Blight, your duty - all of them more important to you!"

Duncan raised an eyebrow, "You know better than to try and shame me, Vivian. The Blight is more important and my duty to the king is part of it. All of Ferelden will suffer if the Blight takes hold, including Neria."

Vivian frowned, but nodded, "I guess you're going to see Irving now?"

"Yes, I'm due there soon." He stepped to the door and pulled it open, waiting. Vivian shuffled past into the hall without looking at him. "Vivian," he said, "I'll speak to him. I make no promises, but I'll speak to him."

Vivian gave him a grateful smile, "Thank you, Duncan. I think you'll find her deserving." She turned and walked down the hall.

Duncan watched her go, once again regretting the burden he'd placed on her by getting her with child over an afternoon's fling. He hardly knew the young man he had once been, barely knew Vivian, and didn't know the girl at all. With a sigh he filed it away amongst the other regrets in his life and went to meet First Enchanter Irving.

* * *

><p>Neria stood in the solar looking up at the sky that was denied her. Small white clouds drifted across an expanse of blue and a flock of tiny birds danced on a breeze she would never feel. She was a prisoner who had never committed a crime and was sentenced to life.<p>

She grimaced - enough of that. Her five minutes of self pity were up and she needed to decide what to do with her day. The tranquil had already carried her few belongings to her new cell and she should go organize them. The new niche was nice and came with it's own bed rather than a bunk, but it didn't come with a door. They have to give us something to look forward to, she reflected. Only senior enchanters get their own room.

She strolled out of the solar, smiling at the various congratulations offered by both mages and apprentices, knowing they meant well. Even a few of the templar jailors tried to congratulate her, though she ignored them as best she could. She was heading up the stairs to her new cell when Jowan caught up to her.

"Neria, there you are! I've been looking all over for you," he exclaimed as he ran up.

She smiled patiently. She really wasn't in a mood to listen to Jowan's whining today, but he had so few friends to talk to that she felt obliged. Jowan had been her mentor when she first arrived and had been friendly and helpful. Unfortunately he was also hapless, clumsy and a poor student. He should have been made a full mage some time ago and refused to believe his long apprenticeship was his own fault. Now even Neria had passed him and he was bound to feel abused.

"Hello Jowan. Sorry I missed you but Vivian was showing me around."

"I wish I had a senior enchanter take such an interest in the me," Jowan complained. Of course Jowan did have a tutor, but the man was constantly frustrated by Jowan's lack of focus. "I didn't even know you had gone to your Harrowing until they carried you back last night," he continued "I've heard of apprentices who never came back from their Harrowing. What was it like?"

"We're friends but don't ask me this. You know I can't tell you."

"Hmph. so much for friendship. Now you get to move to the nice mages quarters upstairs and I'm stuck here. I don't know when they'll call me for my Harrowing."

"I'm sure it won't be long," Neria lied.

"I've been here longer than you have... Sometimes I think they just don't want to test me."

This again. "They are going to test you, Jowan, once they think you'll pass. And, no, I am not going to give you more specifics. You've been told what is expected of you already."

Jowan winced and Neria immediately felt bad for snapping at him. She smiled at him, "Do you want to see my new niche? It's not much, but at least it's mine."

"Thanks, I will, but I have a message first. Irving sent someone looking for you. He wants to see you in his chamber, probably to congratulate you. I told him I'd let you know if I saw you."

"I should go straight there then. Thank you."

"Would you mind if I wait for you in your room? I'd like to talk to you about something," he said, his eyes darting around nervously.

"Alright. I'll come back right after I've talked to Enchanter Irving."

"Thanks Neria. I'll be waiting." He peeled off and headed towards the mages' chambers.

Neria watched him go with a sense of unease. She couldn't imagine what Jowan wanted from her. Did he want her to sponsor him to a Harrowing? Did he want her to speak to his mentor? She was a newly minted mage so couldn't imagine she had much clout to help him. She contemplated the question as she made her way up the tower to the First Enchanter's office.

Irving's door was open when she reached it and he was arguing with Knight Commander Greagoir, head of the jailors. Neria stepped in and waited quietly for them to finish.

* * *

><p>Duncan knew her the moment she stepped into the room. She had her mother's face, obscured as it was behind an expression of cold detachment and a dark tattoo that stretched around her right eye and over her eyebrow - Vivian must have fainted when she saw <em>that<em>. She stood quietly watching Greagoir and Irving argue, but not placidly. She was proud and straight and strong, her eyes and ears drinking in their words and postures. Her eyes moved to him at one point, taking in his armor and his uniform. He nodded at her and she returned the gesture without hesitation or embarrassment.

"Gentleman please," Duncan said to the angry men before him. "Irving, someone is here to see you."

She stepped forward and nodded, "First Enchanter?"

"Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the circle. Come child," Irving said warmly.

"You're obviously busy," said Greagoir. "We will discuss this later."

"Of course. Well, then... where was I? Oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens," Irving introduced.

"is this why you had me summoned?" she asked, unable to keep the hopeful lilt out of her voice.

"There is something else," said Irving, "but I wanted you to meet Duncan first. You've heard about the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar."

"I would like to defend Ferelden," she said without hesitation.

"With the darkspawn invading, we need all the help we can get, especially from the circle," Duncan told her, "The power you mages wield is an asset to any army. Your spells are very effective against large groups of mindless darkspawn. I fear if we don't drive them back we will suffer another Blight." He watched for her reaction and saw concern, but not fear. Perhaps Vivian was not exaggerating about the girl's temperament.

"Now Duncan, you worry the child with talk of Blights and darkspawn. This is a happy day for her."

"We live in troubled times, my friend," Duncan reminded him.

"We should seek moments of levity, especially in troubled times." Irving turned to Neria, "The Harrowing is behind you. Your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage within the Circle of Magi."

For the first time the girl flinched, "My leash, you mean."

"Now child, it's not that bad."

"My phylactery only exists so they can hunt me if I turn apostate," she said bitterly.

Irving gave a side-long glance at Duncan before scolding her gently, "You know we have few choices. The gift of magic is looked upon with suspicion and fear. We must prove that we can handle our power responsibly. You have done this. I present you with your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them." He waved to small table nearby where the named items rested.

Neria nodded then gathered up the items in her arms, "What happens now?" she asked.

"Patience child, you have been through an ordeal. Let us not rush things. It goes without saying that you shall not discuss the Harrowing with those who have not undergone the right," he warned.

"You mean Jowan?" she asked.

"I mean anybody. Now, then... take your time to rest, or study in the library. The day is yours."

"Can I leave the tower?" she asked, hopefully.

"Not yet. Remember the tower's walls protect us as much as they protect others from us."

She nodded again, but obviously found no comfort in Irving's words.

"I shall return to my quarters, I believe you still have things to discuss with Greagoir," said Duncan.

"Of course. Would you be so kind as to escort Duncan back to his room, child? You may leave those things here and I will have someone carry them back to your chamber."

"It would be my pleasure," she replied eagerly, placing the robe and staff down, but slipping the ring onto her finger. She may not be pleased at being a prisoner, but she was obviously proud of her accomplishment at becoming a mage. "Warden?" she nodded and turned towards the door.

They had only gone a short distance before she began asking about the war. She was studiously trying to sound only slightly interested, which he found extremely amusing. Several times she gave him openings to recruit her and each time he sidestepped to see how she would react. She seemed to realize what he was doing but did not allow herself to be discouraged or angered. She was both smart and diplomatic, necessary qualities for any Warden mage. He wondered if she was as powerful as Vivian claimed.

When they finally reached his chamber she seemed to gather her courage and asked directly, "Do you think I could join the army?"

He smiled and said evasively, "I don't know, do you?"

She looked surprised by the turnabout, but only briefly. "Yes, I think I could help," she declared.

"Then perhaps I shall speak to Irving about this later," he replied. "Darkspawn are a greater threat than blood mages, even abominations. It takes decades for the world to recover from a Blight. I wish the Chantry could see that. We must stop at nothing to defeat the darkspawn." He realized his ire was rising, "Ah, listen to me. An old man's rantings can't be very interesting."

She smiled, "As an apprentice, old men talking have defined my life."

He chuckled, "Yes, I'm sure they did." So she was not too jaded to laugh at herself, that was good.

"Ho, Duncan. Where do you want me to dump this ... well, Helloooo there." Daveth dropped a pair of large packs on the ground by the door and stepped forward. "And who is this lovely creature?"

"I am no creature," she snapped, "I'm a human, just like you."

"Uh, oh, I wasn't ...Huh?" Daveth froze midstride, taken aback by the sudden retort.

"Mages are often reviled as less than human," Duncan explained calmly. "I'm sure Daveth meant no harm, Neria. He was trying to pay you a complement."

Neria looked tempted to strike out again, but bit her tongue. "My apologies, Warden Duncan. You are right, most people who call me a creature don't mean it fondly." She dismissed Daveth with a flick of her eyelashes and turned back to Duncan, "I hope... Well, I hope your discussion with Irving goes well. If you don't mind, I have someone waiting for me."

"Don't let me keep you," he said with a nod.

She strolled out of the room without a glance at Daveth. Only when she was well gone did the young thief stir from his spot. He slid up to Duncan and whispered, "I just offended a mage, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Am I going to die?"

"Most assuredly, but likely not tonight."

"Oh, Ha! Very funny. Should I unpack or will we be fleeing shortly?"

"I will be staying and sleeping in that large, comfortable bed. You will be spreading a pallet out before the fire. If you don't mind, I have some letters to write while you get to work unpacking."

* * *

><p>Jowan stood in Neria's new sleeping chamber and envied her, as he had so many times before. Everything seemed to come so easy for her; her magic, her friends, her mentors. Now she had a nice bed of her own, not a bunk, in a niche with a desk and a shelf and just a touch of privacy. He gingerly sat on the bed to test it out, finding it was softer than what the apprentices got. He sighed and lay back. He knew he would never have one of these. The tranquil shared dorms like the apprentices did, regardless of how long they had been in the tower, and he was going to be made tranquil. Lily had told him so.<p>

Tranquil. What a pretty, pleasant word for such a horrible thing. To have the ability to feel emotion completely severed from him, to be unable to love, or hate, or yearn. Do the tranquil not remember how it felt to have emotions, he wondered, or do they remember but just don't care? Either way it was a cold fate. It was death but with your body left behind to serve the mages who killed you.

A throat being cleared caused Jowan to sit up. One of the newer apprentices was standing there holding a robe and a staff in his arms. "Pardon, but I was told to deliver this here for mage Neria. This is her bed, right?"

"Yes, yes. I was just waiting for her," said Jowan, standing.

"Warming it up for her, eh?" the apprentice grinned.

"Something like that," Jowan muttered. Jowan had seen this apprentice around, he had been there less than a year but was already considered one of the most talented. "Jon, is it?"

"Yep. And you're Jowan, right? The eternal apprentice?" Jon replied saucily.

Jowan scowled, "You're what, thirteen? You'll learn soon enough there is no such thing. You either take the Harrowing, get tranquiled or you die. if you really feel like mocking me before the gallows, go ahead."

Jon sobered immediately. "Um, I'm just going to lay this stuff on the bed and go, alright?" Jowan nodded and Jon quickly did his task and started to leave.

"Wait," said Jowan. "Where is Neria? She went to see Enchanter Irving, doesn't he normally give these things himself?"

"Yes, but she was sent to show the Grey Warden to his chambers so I was told to carry this stuff down."

"Grey Warden? Here? Is he recruiting?" Jowan asked in alarm.

"I don't know," Jon shrugged, still walking. "I'm just Irving's gopher for the day. I don't know any more than what I've told you."

Jowan felt The Fear creeping up his arms. Neria being recruited into the Wardens would ruin everything. He needed her to help him escape the tower and the Right of Tranquility. He needed her to get his phylactery so he couldn't be traced. He needed her more than the Wardens did. Damnation, why did the Maker hate him so? Neria had been mage for less than half a day and was already being taken from him. All he needed was one moment from her, just one. All she had to do was help him open the door to the phylactery chamber and he would take care of the rest, but she never would do it if it would risk her own ability to get free.

His hands were clenching with The Fear so he picked up the staff and began to walk and twirl it around, trying to distract his limbs and allow him to think. He'd have to do something. He just couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what.

"If you break that, you'll have to explain it to Irving," Neria laughed, peeking around the edge of the niche's opening.

He tossed the staff on the bed like it had burned him and stuck his hands behind his back, "Er, hi. Have you finished talking to, um, everyone?"

"I think so, yes. Why? Are you having another personal crisis?" she teased.

"Very funny." He stepped closer and asked, in a soft voice, "Do you remember what we discussed this morning?"

She stepped back, "Why are you whispering? It looks very suspicious."

"Shhh, I just want to make sure we are not overheard. We should go somewhere else. I don't feel safe talking here."

"You're starting to worry me, Jowan."

"I've been troubled. I'll explain. Come with me, please." He started to move towards the hallway and waved for her to follow. They walked in silence until Jowan ducked into the Circle chapel and pulled her in. He led her to a far corner where Lily was quietly dusting. Beautiful Lily. Lily who didn't care about his limp hair, or his crooked mouth, or weak shoulders. Lily who smiled at him every time she saw him. Lily who had welcomed him in a way no-one else ever had. "We should be safe here," he whispered.

"In the chapel? The templars' favorite haunt? You do realize there is a sister right there," Neria nodded towards the corner.

Jowan turned and smiled as his love walked forward. "A few months ago, I told you that I... met a girl. This is Lily."

Neria stepped back in shock, "Oh, Jowan!" She then took on that scolding face that he was all too familiar with, "You know this is forbidden."

"I know, which is why I need help," he pleaded. "Will you listen?"

Neria frowned, but nodded and Jowan carefully explained what he wanted her to do. Someone had noticed him sneaking out of the dorm to meet Lily and assumed he was practicing forbidden magic, he told her. They were going to make him tranquil because of it so he needed to escape and he stood no chance of succeeding without Neria's help. Neria looked increasingly alarmed as he spoke, but not convinced of the urgency. Jowan's voice began to creep up in panic and his words got wilder until Lily reached over and touched his arm, immediately making him feel calm again. The Fear never owned him when she was there.

"I really don't see them replacing Irving and wiping out the Circle over one rumor," Neria was chiding him, "Still, you two would likely bear the brunt of it. Really Jowan? An initiate? Never mind. I need to think this over," She put her hands to her temples in frustration.

"I suppose that's fair," said Lily, silencing Jowan's retort with a touch. "But please give us your answer soon. Time is running out."

Neria nodded grimly then left the chapel. Jowan watched her go and shook his head, "She's going to say 'No'".

"You can't be sure of that," Lily whispered.

"Yes, I can. If she was going to say 'Yes' she would have done so already."

* * *

><p>Neria left them there, holding hands, then walked down the hall to her chamber. Her new mage's robe was folded neatly and lying on the bed and the staff was akimbo where Jowan had tossed it. She put them both in the wardrobe then stretched out face-down on the bed, pulling the pillow over her head like she did in the dormitory when she didn't want to hear the other apprentices. Unfortunately there was no drowning out the voices in her own head. The situation was impossible. Helping Jowan escape would get her in real trouble and likely would get him killed. And how was she supposed to destroy his phylactery? She wasn't given any phylactery cabinet key when she became a mage. Was there even such a thing? Asking after it would probably not be the safest idea.<p>

And what about the Grey Warden? He had seemed so willing to recruit her, would he change his mind if she were caught up in this thing? No question, of course he would. She had a chance of getting out, could she threaten it to help Jowan? Would he have done the same for her? That answer was easy as well - yes he would. He would have bollixed it all up, but he would have helped her.

"Sweetie? Is something the matter sweetie?" A sugary voice coaxed her and a hand was laid on her calf.

"Just the usual," Neria muttered. She pulled the pillow away and rolled over, "What do you need Vivian?"

"I was wondering how things went. I heard you talked to Irving and to Duncan. Did they say anything?"

"Irving made a point of introducing me to Warden Duncan and Duncan made a point of saying he would speak to Irving about recruiting me."

"Into the Wardens?" Vivian said in excitement.

"Um, no. At least I don't think so. I asked if he could recruit me into the king's army and he said he would talk to Irving about it. You don't think he would recruit me into the Wardens, do you? I'm barely a mage."

"You are a young mage of extraordinary talent. I'm sure he would be glad to recruit you if you said you wanted to go," promised Vivian.

Neria had learned that her mother was often sure of things that turned out to be completely false. "We'll see. Even if it is just the army, I'll be happy to go. Anything to get out from under the thumb of the templars."

The thought of the templars made her close her eyes. If she told Irving about Jowan and Lily he would be watched doubly closely by their templar jailors. He might still be denied his Harrowing even if he wasn't a blood mage just for sneaking around with an initiate. Damn him for putting her in this position.

"Oh, sweetie, is it Jowan? I know he must be jealous of your Harrowing, but if he loves you he will forgive you."

Her eyes flew open. That's it! She could talk to Irving without mentioning Lily. Jowan had come to her worried about his Harrowing, she could go to Irving and ask about it. Perhaps she could convince him that it was she he was sneaking around with. Many assumed they were a couple anyway, it just might work.

She sat up and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, "Thanks, Vivian. I have to run."

Her heart was light when she entered Irving's office for the second time that day. He was kind and genial until she asked him when Jowan was going to go through his Harrowing, then he was evasive and asked why she was so concerned.

"Jowan came to me worried that he hasn't gone through the ceremony yet. He told me he fears he might be tranquiled," she explained.

"And how did he find out? Was it from the young initiate he dallies around with?"

Neria's heart dropped into her stomach. She was expecting Irving to laugh off the whole idea of Jowan being made tranquil, not ask how he learned about it. Something wasn't right.

Irving easily read her expression. "You think I didn't know? I did not become First Enchanter by keeping my eyes and ears shut," he lectured.

"Please, I beg you, don't do this to Jowan," Neria's throat tightened. "He hasn't done anything wrong, just fallen for the wrong girl."

"Greagoir says he has proof - an eyewitness testimony that Jowan has been practicing blood magic. If it were up to me... but the Chantry. I'm sorry child. This Right of Tranquility will happen."

It was real, not another of Jowan's fantasies. It was real and he was going to be destroyed like an unwanted dog. "Greagoir must be making it up," she choked, "He hates all mages."

"Let us not speak ill of my colleague... our colleague. You know little of this, and I ask you to hold your tongue."

"No!", she exclaimed. She had always thought of Irving as a protector, not a collaborator. Jowan was right, he was being sacrificed to keep peace with the Chantry. "No! This is wrong! You know this is wrong."

"Perhaps one day you will see it from my side."

"Only once my heart has died." She spun and ran from the room. She went to Jowan.


	3. Ferrymen

Jowan, how could you?

Everything had been going so well. They had made their way into the repository, taken Jowan's phylactery and destroyed it. They were only steps from the front door when Irving, Greagoir and his templars had stopped them, spewing anger and threats of imprisonment in Aeonar. Then Jowan... Jowan... Neria stared at the men scattered on the floor. His magic had been so sudden and so strong that she hadn't had a chance to react. His blood magic. His Blood Magic.

Lily stood in shock, "By the Maker, blood magic. How could you? You said you'd never."

"I admit, I dabbled," Jowan tried to explain, "I thought it would make me a better mage."

Neria wanted to close her ears. She didn't want to hear this.

"I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you." Lily was shaking and holding onto the banister to keep from sinking to the ground, "I don't know who you are blood mage. Stay away from me." She pointed to the door, "Get away from me blood mage!" Jowan looked at Neria pleadingly but she turned her head away, she couldn't bear to look at him any longer. He fled through the great doors that led to the docks and the only way out.

Neria moved to Irving who was splayed on the floor nearby. It took a few minutes before she was able to rouse him, then he and the templars all began to move at once.

"Are you alright?" Irving pulled himself to his knees, "Where's Greagoir?"

"I knew it, blood magic. But to overcome so many. I never thought him capable of such power," said Greagoir, climbing to his feet.

"He lied to me," Neria whispered. Jowan, how could you?

"None of us expected this. Are you alright Greagoir?" asked Irving as Neria helped him up.

"As well as can be expected given the circumstances," Greagoir shouted. "If you had let me act sooner none of this would have happened. Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down!"

"Yes," Neria murmured, "Jowan destroyed his phylactery." Jowan, how could you?

"Where's the girl?" Greagoir demanded.

"I am here, ser," Lily stepped out of the corner looking pale and frightened.

Greagoir turned his wrath on the helpless initiate, "You helped a blood mage! Look at all he's hurt!"

Lily sank to her knees and suddenly Neria was angry, "You forced Jowan's hand!" Damn you, Jowan.

"Knight Commander, I was wrong." Lily bowed her head, "I will accept whatever punishment you see fit. Even... even Aeonar."

"Get her out of my sight!" Greagoir turned back to Neria, "And you! You know why the repository exists. Some artifacts - some magics - are locked away for a reason."

Irving eyed her, "Did you take anything from the repository?"

Neria looked over her shoulder at the long, ornate staff strapped obviously to her back. "No," she said dryly.

He scowled at the sarcasm, "Shall we add thievery to your list of misdemeanors then? I'll be taking that back now, if you don't mind."

"Your antics have made a mockery of this Circle!" yelled Greagoir. "What are we to do with you?"

A vision of eternal imprisonment at Aeonar crowded her thoughts. She straightened her shoulders, "Do what you like. I stand by my decision to help Jowan." Damn him.

"You helped a blood mage escape. All our prevention measures for naught, because of you." Greagoir placed his face inches from Neria's own but she refused to shrink back.

"Knight Commander, if I may."

Neria spun to find Warden Duncan approaching the group and her mouth went dry. Damn you, Jowan, you've ruined everything! She pressed her lips together and refused to cry.

"I'm not only looking for mages for the king's army, I am also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage and I would like her to join the Warden ranks," he looked at her directly and she found it hard to breathe.

"Duncan this mage has assisted a malificar and shown a lack of regard for the rules of the Circle," Irving warned.

"She is a danger to all of us," accused Greagoir.

"It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need. I stand by my decision. I will recruit this mage."

"No! I refuse to let this go unpunished!" Greagoir shouted.

"If the Grey Wardens will have me, I will gladly go," she said, barely believing this was happening.

"Greagoir, mages are needed. This mage is needed. Worse things plague this world than blood mages, you know that." Duncan stepped up next to Neria, "I take this young mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions."

Greagoir was practically spitting in anger, "A blood mage escapes and his accomplice is not only unpunished but is rewarded by becoming a Grey Warden. Are our rules nothing? Have we lost all authority over our mages? This does not bode well, Irving."

"Enough," said Irving, looking almost relieved, "We have no more say in this matter."

For the first time Neria was nervous, "What lies in store for me?"

"We must make our way to Ostagar where the king's army is camped. You will be initiated there. I will explain more when the time comes." Duncan turned to the rear of the room where his smarmy aid waited, "Daveth, pack our things if you please."

"But I just finished unpacking them!"

Duncan cleared his throat and the man disappeared up the stairs.

Neria was dizzy at the sudden change in her fortunes - she was leaving the Circle _right now._ She looked over at Irving, who was frowning at her sadly. "Thank you for everything, First Enchanter," she stepped closer to him, "Say goodbye to Vivian for me."

"I shall, child, but I cannot give her reason for pride."

"I understand. I... hope you will too someday."

"Come, let's get your things. Your new life awaits," Duncan took her elbow and steered her towards the door.

* * *

><p>Jowan fled. Alone.<p>

"Get away from me blood mage!"

Lily hadn't even said his name. He wasn't Jowan anymore. He was a thing, a blood mage. Even Neria, his best friend, his sister mage, had turned her head away. His boots echoed down the dark, narrow stairs to the tower's docks as another voice crept into his mind.

"Get away from me mage!" His mother had been frightened and disgusted. He was only six years old and she had ordered him out. He had stood at the edge of the woods watching her pile everything he owned in front of their house and burn it. He'd begged her to forgive him for whatever he had done but she just screamed at him to stay away. He hadn't fled until she started throwing the rocks. He had actually been grateful when the templars found him huddling in the forest nearby the next day.

Templars. There would be at least one at the dock, maybe two. He forced himself to stop and breathe. Greagoir and his men would only be down for a few minutes. He didn't have time to sneak past. He reached for his knife.

"Get away from me blood mage!"

He shook Lily's voice out of his head. "Focus Jowan," he muttered. Knife in hand, he moved downwards quickly but quietly. He froze when he heard a laugh. There had to be two of them there - or one weird one. He tiptoed forward and peeked around the corner to the docks.

The docks chamber was smaller than he remembered it, but he had been so, so small himself the last time he saw it. A few torches revealed three rowboats tied up against the narrow dock. A young man in homespun was hopping from boat to boat causing them to rock wildly as a templar laughed. So, only one of them then. He drew the blade across his thumb and muttered the enchantment. The templar felt the magic and began to turn towards him but it was already too late. With a shriek the templar fell to the ground writhing and the man hopping the boats stopped and stared.

"Take me out of here or you'll suffer like him." Jowan tried to sound fierce but his voice squeaked like a child's. Fortunately the templar's cries were convincing.

The man jumped to the well of a boat and picked up a pole. "Whatever you want, ser. I'm just a ferryman, no threat to you, ser."

"Good. Now hurry!" Jowan stepped into the boat and promptly fell as it rocked beneath him. The ferryman's eyes flew wide and he made a choking noise. "Just go!" Jowan ordered. The ferryman obeyed and the boat slid towards the tunnel leading to the outside and freedom. Jowan tensed with excitement. Then he heard the jingling sound of armor coming down the stair and his stomach clenched with The Fear. He turned around, his eyes zipping back and forth between the two boats left at the dock.

"Focus Jowan," he told himself, pulling on his mana. The power seemed to scatter around him, as it too often did, crackling over his skin. He tried to bring it all together but it was not obeying. He saw the first templar come through the opening and realized he was out of time. His power released, sending lightening flying towards the two boats - and throughout the rest of the room. The flash blinded him and the force of the thunder threw him back into the well of the boat.

When the spots before his vision cleared he saw the ferryman was huddled down over him, his eyes closed and hands over his ears.

"Where's the pole?" asked Jowan loudly, his own ears ringing.

The young ferryman's eyes opened inches from Jowan's own and he yanked himself backwards in terror. "Pole? I... the noise... I. Oars! We have oars!" He jumped up and grabbed them from their place along the sidewalls, dropped them into their brackets and began to draw like a demon were after him.

He probably thinks there is, mused Jowan, pulling himself back onto his seat. The chamber was completely dark, the torches having been blown out or knocked down by the blast, he didn't know which. There was only dim starlight filtering from outside to show them where the tunnel lay. Past the dull roar that still reverberated in his ears he could hear templars calling to each other in the darkness behind him as the little boat slipped out. The ferryman rowed even faster once they exited the tunnel and reached the open water of Lake Calenhad, obviously eager to reach the bank and be rid of his passenger.

The moon was barely rising above the horizon, leaving the shore dark and shrouded. Jowan continuously glanced about but saw no signs of pursuing boats - a good thing considering he didn't have the power light a candle. He had thrown big spells before, always under The Fear, and it left him drained. He had never truly lacked power or control, he reflected, he just never seemed to have them both at the same time. His mind rolled over the many exercises he had been taught to try to bring them together. None had ever worked.

The rocking of the boat must have made him doze off because the next thing he knew they were bumping against the dock on the shore. He glanced around quickly and saw the lights shining from the small inn nearby but no-one was walking around and the houses were dark. The ferryman had stepped out and was tying the small boat off and looking around as nervously as Jowan. He's probably trying to figure out if he can bolt, thought the fugitive mage. He stepped onto the dock and said, "Give me your clothes."

"My clothes? Please, ser, I don't have much. I can't" he begged.

"I'll give you my robes, just give me your clothes" Jowan ordered.

The ferryman moaned, but began pulling off his shirt. Suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground. Jowan leapt forward reflexively and bent over him.

"Don't wake him!" ordered a voice from the shadows. A burly man in homespun stepped out. "Leave that poor boy be, he's just trying to get by. There's no need to rob him."

Jowan stood and looked around for somewhere to run. but he was still on the dock and the man was blocking the way to land. "I have magic." he said, lifting his hands.

"So do I, obviously," replied the man, pointing to the stricken ferryman. "Poor kid. Just started working for the boats. Will probably go off to farming turnips now."

"Who are you?" Jowan demanded, "Are you a templar?"

"No, just a ferryman myself, but I go beyond the water. My name is Lester and I'm from a group called the Mage's Collective. We help runaway mages like yourself to escape."

"The Mage's Collective? You're real?" Jowan lowered his hands, "The templars told us Anders was lying."

"They would," replied Lester. "Listen, we need to get you out of here before the templars..."

A screeching sound from the tower interrupted him and Jowan turned to see a bright, white rocket shoot from the top.

"... can do that," muttered Lester. "Quickly, follow!" He took off at a run towards the forest and Jowan chased after him, lacking other options.

Years of studying in the tower had not prepared Jowan from running through the woods in the middle of the night. He felt like he tumbled more than ran, with his body picking up a collection of cuts and bruises along with the dirt, twigs and the occasional squishy thing that he didn't want to think about. When Lester finally stopped, Jowan collapsed on the forest floor wheezing. His legs trembled and twitched involuntarily beneath him.

Lester chuckled, "Been a while since I had an amateur. Anders always keeps himself in shape." He winked, "You wait here now," as if Jowan could move.

Jowan lay there on the cold, damp ground and ached. He could smell the earth and the trees, deeper and richer than the dirt in the Tower nursery. The trees were whispering quietly above him, mocking his load breathing, and a nightbird of some type was screeching nearby. He pushed himself to a sitting position and began to massage his tired, cramping legs. If this was freedom, it bloody well hurt.

"Get away from me blood mage!"

Jowan winced. Oh, Lily, what had he done to her? She had been so kind to him, so caring and generous. Greagoir had ordered here to Aeonar. Would that happen? Would she really go to prison? Could she ever forgive him for this?

"Get away from me blood mage!"

No. She never would.

Jowan pushed the thoughts from his head. He could feel his mana returning and used it to heal his legs, as well as the tell-tale wounds to his hand. When Lester returned the moon was high and Jowan was on his feet.

"Good move, scuttling the boats. I am guessing that's what you did since they didn't row after you, eh?"

Jowan nodded.

"That'll slow them down a bit. There's a couple templars that were left on the shore but they'll be lucky to notice if they trip over us. They won't find us in this forest." Lester stepped closer, looking at Jowan's robes under the now bright moonlight. "Bloody balls, boy, are you an apprentice?"

"Y... Yes, ser."

"How'd you manage to get past the templars?"

"I... We," Jowan could hold it no longer and began to sob. "My friends... I ran while they... They... You don't think we could?"

"No, son. If they didn't make it out then we can't help them."

Jowan sank to the ground. Poor Neria. She had wanted out as badly as he had. Would she go to Aeonar too? He wiped his eyes, "The templars came in and I just ran."

"Hmph. They probably ignored you thinking they could pick you up fast since your phylactery was still in the tower rather than Denerim. That's going to make things a sight more difficult to get you away."

"I destroyed my phylactery."

"You _what_?"

"We snuck into the basement and I destroyed it. It was difficult but we did it. My friend just passed her Harrowing and agreed to help me out. Now she's trapped and is going to suffer for it and it's all my fault."

"No more crying now. No phylactery is good, real good. Though your friend must be a hell of a mage to reach it."

"She is," Jowan slumped, "Much better than me."

"You're a bit of a whiner, aren't you? No matter, we'll save you anyway," he said, giving Jowan a playful slap on the shoulder. "Think you can walk? There's fresh water up ahead and we want to make some distance before sunrise."

"Yes, ser." said Jowan, standing. "I'm ready."

"I hope so," Lester winked. "This has been the easy part."


End file.
